Of Pearls and Stars
by Araminta Ditch
Summary: Set to the backdrop of the American Revolution, Will and Jack are dragged into a war that isn't theirs to fight. Elizabeth is left alone to battle fear and loneliness, but who can trust her to sit still and wait? Willabeth, naturally.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **This plotline is purely my own, and any characters or items relating to Pirates of the Caribbean belong to Disney and those affiliated with the movie. No profit is being made through the writing of this fiction.

**Author's Note:** As some of you may realize, this story has already been posted by a joint account owned by myself and Williz. We went by the name of Pieces Of A Story, and though we still do write, this story has been abandoned. Since I have been experiencing trouble with my other fiction, I've decided to take this fiction upon myself and continue with it on my own account, with my partner's permission, of course. There have been some slight changes made as well. Enjoy.

**Of Pearls and Stars**

Drops of perspiration dripped down his temple, as the handsome young man raised his arm to wipe his forehead. William Turner stood straight, setting down the hammer on the table to the right. He inspected his work on the wood planking of the front porch and let out a huffed sigh. Running a hand through his hair, he grabbed the cloth hanging on the chair and wiped his hands clean. He unrolled his white sleeves and walked back towards his cozy, middle class home.

He and his new wife of now just over a year had bought the house after they married. Of course, her father had helped Will with the finances, despite the younger man's protests, and here he was now, standing in front of the home he shared with his beautiful Elizabeth. Will could still remember the wedding, and how beautiful she had looked. The Caribbean sun beat down upon them on the sandy beaches of Port Royal as they exchanged their vows, making her eyes twinkle merrily and her skin glow. Will remembered the love they felt…how they thought it would never die.

Will shook his head to rid himself of thought of the past. He had no need to torture himself with thoughts of what had been, and what should be. What's done is done, and Will was able to accept the fact that he, and his darling Elizabeth, were not, by any means, living in marital harmony.

Upon entering the house, Will stepped into the kitchen and observed his wife prepare their evening meal. It had taken time, but eventually, Elizabeth had become skilled enough, that she was able to boast of her culinary abilities.

Elizabeth stood near the stove, chopping fresh chives from the garden for her chicken's seasoning. She quickly sprinkled some onto the cooking meat, as it was becoming too cooked to add spices. Wiping off her hands on her apron, she heard her husband come into the house, and she heard the door shut behind him. Turning her attention back to the food, she picked up a tomato and began to dry it off with a cloth. Will came in behind her, and wrapped his arms gently around her midriff. However, without a second thought, Elizabeth sidestepped him and left her husband standing there, watching her as she walked across the kitchen.

Will turned around and looked to the table. Noticing no dishes were set, he strode over the cabinets and brought out two dishes and the proper silverware. He glanced at his wife, who was stretching over the stove where his meal sizzled. With one last longing gaze, Will went to the washroom to rid himself of the dust and grime of his everyday chores.

ooo

Stepping outside after dinner, Will crossed his arms over his chest and paced the makings of their front porch slowly. He looked up at the sky and sighed, the cool Caribbean night air immediately cooling him off.

Dinner had been the usual. Not one word was exchanged. The only sounds echoing throughout the room were the clinking of their dinner forks and the ticking of the clock on the wall. Both he and Elizabeth seemed fit to concentrate very intently on the food they were eating.

The silence was consuming Will, as it always had. It was a nail in his heel, and any attempt to fix it would only drive it in deeper, ingraining it into his body. Silence is so much louder than the loudest of screams, which was what he wanted to do. Was it too horrible to even fathom that there would be conversation during dinner? Was it really that horrible that he should see fit to converse with his wife to make things better for the both if them? Will honestly had no idea what had made the idea so repulsive to Elizabeth, that she should not acknowledge the fact that he was only a few feet away from her.

And then the quarrel proceeded from there, and just as always, it resulted in tears. Of course Elizabeth would stab at his weakness and breakdown and cry, until he hugged her tight and whispered apologies into her hair. How he hated to see her cry. Then, it was back to the coldness and aversion.

Will glanced up from staring at his feet when he heard the soft whinny of a horse. There was his neighbor, Jeffrey Kingston, brushing one of his horses. Kingston looked up from the horse and grinned in Will's direction. "Well, well, well…Mr. Turner, how are we tonight?" Jeffrey asked, still grinning.

Will smiled and replied. "As good as one can be, I suppose." Not realizing the small hint of unhappiness in the younger man's tone, Mr. Kingston strode to Will slowly. "Hey, you think your wife would mind much if you came over for a drink?" Kingston clapped a friendly hand on Will's back.

"Mind? She probably wouldn't even notice," Will said, a small smile on his face for Jeff's purpose. His neighbor just laughed merrily and started guiding Will back to the Kingston home.

"Hey, Will, you hear about that draft they're sendin' out? You know, the colonies are on the uprise against Britain. Terrible stuff they're goin' through up in the mainland." He shrugged and started filling two glasses with an amber colored drink. Will stopped and looked at Jeffrey. "A draft, eh?"

"Yep. Don't know what the big deal is anyways. I mean, we outnumber 'em two to one…they don't stand a chance, poor souls. I'll tell ya one thing though; I'm not fighting that war. I've got a wife and three beautiful children to take care of." Will nodded, a far off look on his face, before changing the subject.

"So, Mr. Kingston, where's Laura? Asleep already?" Will asked, taking the glass of bourbon the older man offered and sipping it. Jeffrey laughed and said, "First of all, Will…it's Jeff, alright? And second of all, she's with her mother." He shrugged and walked over to the table with his own glass of bourbon.

"With her mother? Doing what, if I'm not prying too much?" Will asked, taking another sip of his bourbon. Jeff just shrugged. "Will, she's got her mood swings, like every woman, and when it swings one way, she'll be as happy as a lark…but God help me when it swings the other way!" Both men laughed at his comment and clinked their glasses together. Will chuckled, raising his glass to his companion.

"So how about you and the Missus, hm?" Jeff asked, still wiping the after effects of the joke from his eyes. He noticed Will gulp down the rest of his drink quickly. "Erm…mind if I make another one, friend?" Will asked, changing the subject.

"No, go right ahead." Will stood and poured himself a full glass and downed it in one gulp. "Will, somethin' wrong with you and Elizabeth?" His eyes narrowed curiously as he stood and crossed over to his friend, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"No, no…we're just—I don't know, not very intimate anymore…but that's alright. I shouldn't expect it of her after what has happened, should I? It's only natural that she should want her distance." He paused, and then sighed. "It seems as if it's affected her whole being. She… she doesn't talk to me anymore either. Not unless it's absolutely necessary." Will feigned a grin before he continued yet again. "But still… I suppose that's supposed to happen in marriage. Eventually, you just tire of each other…"

"Will, you've been married a year, for goodness sake! You can't be losing intimacy in a marriage between two young people after a year, regardless of what happened between you two!" Jeff was worried now. "Mate, if you need any advice, you know I've been married to a royal terror for ten years…believe me, that's experience." Will smiled gratefully up at his friend and went to sit down with another full glass of the alcohol.

"Aye, that is experience in itself." Will waited for Kingston to cross over to the other side of the table and sit there. "It's just, I don't know what to do anymore, Jeff. When we married, it was a beautiful and lasting thing. I was so in love with my Elizabeth…and she loved me, of course. I just—Oh, I don't know. Never mind, I should stop there." Will took a gulp of his drink and set it down again.

"Oh no you don't. Marriage is the strongest facility of love two people can have…and intimacy is important. Ah, I remember being your age, just fallen in love with Laura…you love her don't you?" Jeff sat up from his reminiscing and looked at Will critically.

Will looked down at the floor. "Yes, I do," he stated, through his teeth. He really didn't know anything about himself and Elizabeth anymore.

"Then tell her every once in awhile. That's probably the only way I can keep Laura interested in me anymore." He laughed outright and smacked Will on the back.

Will nodded and stood up, emptying the rest of the glass's contents down his throat and walking to the door. "Thanks for everything Jeff. Good advice, great advice in fact. I should leave," Will said, walking outside again and back to his house.

Jeffrey rocked back on the haunches of the chair, grinning with pride. "Saved another marriage."

ooo

Will shuffled into his home quietly, shutting the back door and walking up to his bedroom on the second floor. He tiptoed quietly up each stair, making sure not to make too much noise in case Elizabeth had already fallen asleep. She'd been going to sleep early a lot lately and she'd just be laying there every time he came into the room.

He unbuttoned his vest as he walked down the corridor to his room, and shrugged it off as he stepped inside. Elizabeth was sleeping again. He sighed and draped his vest over the chair, sitting in it and pulling off his boots. Once he finished, he walked over to the bed and looked at his wife.

Will yawned and stretched his arms over his head, before shrugging off his shirt and changing into his sleeping pants. Crossing over to the bed, he gently undid the covers and slid first one foot, then the other in.

The young man just sat there for a while, noticing that Elizabeth was still awake. She turned over on her stomach, looked at him once, and then turned back over, her back away from him.

Will reached out a hand and laid it softly on her shoulder. "Elizabeth…?" he murmured. Receiving no response, he sighed and looked down at his lap before sinking down beneath the covers. He turned over and blew out the candle, leaving the complacent couple in the dark of the night.

Elizabeth laid there, eyes wide-open, tears running down her face. She wiped at them, sniffed, and closed her eyes.

ooo

The cold bite of iron against his wrists was a familiar occurrence nowadays, he mused with the tiniest of smiles upon his face. He often praised himself on his plans, and their uncanny ability to succeed, some even done without a single drop of rum. However, Jack Sparrow was only human, albeit a super one at that, and humans do make mistakes.

Now, Jack Sparrow has made many mistakes in his past, and often, he suffered from the consequences of such. A good example would be that night he had fallen into a stupor what with having consumed so much of his beloved drink, and allowing that suspicious wench with masculine arms and a deep voice carry him up to his room. Needless to say, he wasn't able to sit properly for nearly a week.

This, he reckoned, was a very big mistake, with very big consequences. He might has well have brought it upon himself, what with being dastardly enough to attempt to pillage and plunder a fully armed English warship. What he hadn't planned on was that this ship was overloaded with hundreds of men, and even more guns to be shipped to the Americas to reinforce English camps in the war. His crew was sorely outnumbered, and their defeat was inevitable.

"Mr. Sparrow," stated a cold, cutting voice, and Jack turned his head. The man who spoke was tall, and dressed in a more ornate form of the fine suit of a naval officer of the Queen's fleet. His nose bent forward over his mouth like a bird's beak, and his pale skin stretched over his face tightly, causing his already large blue eyes to seem even larger.

"Captain Sparrow, if you please?" Jack replied warily, and the man flashed him a grim smile.

"Of course, Captain." He approached the odd man currently chained and held by two naval officers. "Do you know who I am?"

Jack squinted his eyes and made a show of studying his face and the rest of his person. "I can't say you look familiar, though there's a possibility that I have indeed threatened you before. Or perhaps I've killed a relative, or done shameful things with a certain lady friend?"

The man chuckled appreciatively. "No Captain, I dare say that we have not had the pleasure of meeting before. I am Admiral Kensington, of Her Majesties Royal Navy. It seems you've made a rather large mistake in attempted to raid my ship."

"A fact I've already come to terms with, sir. Now, shall I say my apologies, and we can both get back on our own way?" It wouldn't work. He knew it wouldn't. It was worth a try.

"Not so easily, Captain Sparrow," was Kensington's smooth reply. "You see, under normal circumstances, I lock the captain in the brig, destroy the ship, and get back to my own way." He smiled at Jack's obvious discomfort. "Though, I could not help but notice your vessel here. She's beautifully built, and it appears she'd be very useful in battle." Jack nodded his agreement fervently and Admiral Kensington continued. "I couldn't help but think of what an advantage the English fleet would have with a ship like this on our side…"

Jack regarded him quietly for a moment before he smiled coldly. "Jack Sparrow sails under no one save himself. Aye?"

Admiral Kensington's grim smile did not change. "Then it is the brig for you, I'm afriad."

ooo

Elizabeth's eyes fluttered open as the early morning rays wafted through the windows, illuminating the bedroom with a soft orange glow. Blinking the remnants of sleep from her eyes, she suppressed a stretch and turned onto her side, only to be met by the sleeping face of her husband. A small smile curved at the corners of her mouth as she observed Will bury his head further into the pillow, trying to block the beams of sunlight from fully awakening him.

Positioning her head closer to his, Elizabeth delicately reached a hand up to brush a loose strand of hair away from his eyes, and then lightly traced her fingers over Will's sleeping face. Will let out a small huff through his nose and turned his head away from her, causing a breathy laugh from the young woman. Smiling still, she gazed over his face again before biting her lip thoughtfully, and after a moment's hesitation, she lowered her lips onto the column of his throat. Elizabeth looked up at her husband's face to see if she received any reaction, and upon seeing none, she began trailing her lips up to his chin, placing a lingering kiss upon his light stubble. She raised her head slightly and peered down at Will's still form. The young woman let out an almost disheartened sigh as she lightly ran her fingers over his lips. After only a second thought, Elizabeth lowered her mouth onto his and brushed his lips. She faltered a bit, and then closed her eyes for a deeper kiss; only to have Will huff once again and gently push her away, before rolling onto his side. Elizabeth was left with empty arms, feeling rather dejected. After an aching gaze towards her still sleeping husband, she turned over and let out a heartbreaking sigh, finally sitting up and swinging her legs over to the side of the bed.

Elizabeth stood and quietly crossed to her armoire. Opening it slowly, for it tended to creak loudly, she removed one of her favorite dresses and walked behind the dresser, fitting herself into it. She tied her hair up into a stylish bun, letting a few strands fall down to brush over her face. Quickly, grabbing her sunhat, she proceeded to the bedroom door. Will stirred and yawned, barely opening his eyes wide enough to see his wife fully dressed with her hat in hand. He cleared his throat. "Where...where are you going, Elizabeth?" He asked, sitting up groggily, his bare chest uncovered by the sheets that pooled at his waist. "Out, with Laura. She invited me yesterday, don't you remember?" She tilted her head, fitting her sunhat on securely. She gave Will a longing look, making sure he saw that she wanted him to stop her and kiss her the way most husbands did. "Oh, have fun," he muttered, flopping back down against the pillows and snoring lightly. Elizabeth frowned and opened the door. "Good morning," she murmured, sullenly.

Elizabeth stepped out of the front door, shielding her eyes from the brilliant morning sun, the thin hat on her head serving no justice, when she heard her name called. Turning as she shut the door to her grand home, the young woman saw her neighbor, Laura, just stepping out of her own home.

"Good morning, Laura," Elizabeth said merrily to the older woman. "Same to you, Elizabeth," Laura Kingston said, crossing to the gate in front of the Turner home.

"Are you ready to spend all of our husbands' money?" Laura asked, chuckling. She received a giggle from her friend. "Always," Elizabeth laughed

As the two women strode through the various shops and looked at the carts, Laura happily gossiped away, while Elizabeth did most of the listening.

"And did you hear about the Millers boy? He's getting married to the Baker's daughter. Nice girl, yes, but if she eats anymore I'm afraid she'll grow larger than their cow. The girl is twice as wide as the boy is tall. And, Oh! Oh my, Elizabeth would you come look at this necklace!"

Elizabeth shook her head, amused, and followed Laura to the necklace encased in glass. The necklace glowed in the bright Caribbean sunlight through the glass window. Elizabeth's eyes went straight to the display of pearls and diamonds, arranged in a way that made her gasp. The diamonds shone bright, reminding Elizabeth of stars.

"Yes, Laura, it is a beautiful necklace," she admitted breathlessly, hardly able to take her eyes away from the stunning piece of work.

"Yes, well I'll just have to get Jeffrey to buy it for me. Or best yet, why don't you get your dear William to purchase it. Your birthday is coming up soon, isn't it?"

"Yes, in a few weeks, actually," Elizabeth replied, biting her lip lightly.

Laura looked over her critically, narrowing her eyes.

"Jeffrey tells me you and Will are having problems…"

"Problems? Laura, don't be silly," Elizabeth countered with a half-hearted laugh.

"He said that Will says things aren't very intimate between you two anymore. Now, I don't mean to be prodding, but how could a man expect a woman to be intimate after what had happened? You poor thing. Don't you think he would have a decent amount of respect? Men! All of them insensitive, oblivious... and Will! Now, I'm not very well acquainted with him, but I would expect a little more understanding on his part, and let me tell you-"

"Though I do agree, I must remind you that we are speaking of my husband," Elizabeth quickly admonished.

Laura quickly closed her mouth, not saying whatever she had in mind, and smiled apologetically towards Elizabeth.

Elizabeth turned her head towards the necklace again. That's right, their anniversary. One year of...marital bliss. She couldn't call it that, she knew. Shaking her head of her thoughts, she looked into the glass case and noticed something out of the corner of her eye. It was a bulletin. After reading the first few lines, Elizabeth's eyes grew wide, and she quickly turned and motioned for her friend to join her.

"Laura—Laura, come look at this notice," Elizabeth said, speaking quickly.

"What is it?" Laura asked, shifting her gaze to the notice. Reading it was hard for her so she had to squint. "Oh, Elizabeth—My eyes aren't as good as yours, Will you read it to me?"

Elizabeth nodded. "Citizens of Port Royal, We are unnerved to inform you of the beginnings of war in the colonies of British-America. Due to the developments of American minutemen and rebels, a draft is to be issued. Able-bodied males aged sixteen to forty years are on full notice. A summons will be sent to your homes in less than a week. Thank you for your cooperation and God save the Crown."

Laura put a hand to her mouth. "Poor boys, being sent to the colonies to fight rebels on unfamiliar lands. Well, shall we continue then, Elizabeth?" Laura started walking away, but turned back when Elizabeth hadn't moved. "Elizabeth, dear?"

The younger woman shook her head. "Oh, yes! Of course, let's." She walked after the woman and kept her eyes ahead.

The longer they walked, the more Elizabeth's thoughts would drift. A draft… able-bodied men, aged sixteen through forty years. Those thoughts reverberated through the young woman's mind over and over. At 21, Will most definitely would not be exempt from the draft. What would she do if Will were sent off to fight? How would she cope?

"…What do you think, Elizabeth? …Elizabeth?" Laura turned to Elizabeth and stopped her. "Elizabeth, are you well? You look a bit pale, dear," she said as her eyes slanted, concerned.

"No, no. I'm fine, Laura…really I am," Elizabeth said warmly, feigning a smile for her friends and neighbor. "You don't look yourself today, dear. Maybe we should call it a day and head back home, hm?" Laura started guiding the reluctant younger woman back to their homes.

When they arrived, Elizabeth invited Laura in for tea. Laura heartily agreed, but upon opening the door, they heard loud ranting in the living room.

Both women looked to each other cautiously, before proceeding to the room, Elizabeth first because it was her home. As they walked into the room, both men looked up.

Will was leaning against the wall, calmly trying to sooth his companion, who just happened to be the one ranting. Jeffrey Kingston was pacing back and forth in the room, a piece of paper clutched tightly in his hand.

"Darling, why ever in the world are you wearing a hole in the Turners' floor?" Laura asked, placing her hands on her hips.

"Here, Jeffrey. Why don't you sit down?" asked Will, motioning towards the large sofa in their living room.

"Laura, do you know what this is!" Jeffrey asked angrily, dropping himself on the couch. "A summons!" He continued without waiting for his wife's answer. "I'm being drafted!" He yelled, waving his arms around.

"To fight!" She screeched, running to his side and taking the draft from him. As Laura's eyes roved over the paper she held, Elizabeth crossed to Will's side with a questioning look. All he could do was sigh, and continue watching the alarmed couple.

"But—what of our children, Jeffrey? And, oh goodness, what if something should happen to you! What if you _die_!" She finished, letting her husband take her in his arms. "Now, now Laura, darling…you and I both know I'm too proud to die by some ridiculous rebel's hand!"

Will and Elizabeth shared a brief glance, sadness shining in their eyes, before she moved forward. "Laura, Jeffrey—William and I insist you stay for supper," Elizabeth said, softly. As the older couple nodded with small smiles, Elizabeth walked into the kitchen to prepare the meal.

"Laura, what do you say to a drink?" Will asked, sympathetically.

"Oh goodness, please," Laura said, wiping her eyes.

"Jeffrey?" Will asked, looking at his friend.

"Yes, thank you, Will."

With a nod, Will shuffled into the kitchen, seeing his wife poised at the counter, arms spread and head down. He shut the door quietly and walked to her. Elizabeth turned once and looked at her husband.

"Elizabeth, are you alright?" Will ambled over to stand next to her. She stood up straight and rubbed her eyes. "I'm fine," Elizabeth answered, listlessly lifting a dishrag into her hand and dropping it back on the butcher block.

"You're not fine," Will reasoned, softly.

Elizabeth's eyes watered as she choked out a half sob.

"If Jeffrey got a summons, who is to say they won't send one for you?" She asked pleadingly, wiping her face.

Will set his hands on her shoulders, leaning close to her face and kissed her forehead. "They won't, I'm sure!"

Will smiled at her, receiving a tense smile back, before preparing two drinks and walking out to their guests, followed closely by Elizabeth.

"Will, Elizabeth—We're sorry, but I hope you understand…Laura and I can't stay for dinner," Jeffrey said, an arm around his wife's shoulders.

"We understand, Jeffrey." Will smiled and set down the drinks on the coffee table. "Well, Elizabeth…" Laura crossed to Elizabeth and gave her a friendly hug. "…I had a wonderful time today whilst shopping!"

"As did I, Laura!" Elizabeth hugged back. When they broke away, she added, "Some time soon, then?"

"Of course!" Laura took her husband's hand as the Turners walked the Kingstons to the front door.

"Well, thank you for the hospitality Will. You're a true friend. See you tomorrow?" Jeffrey and Will shook hands, before Jeffrey and his wife walked out.

"Count on it," Will answered, shutting the door and locking it as they left.

Both husband and wife glanced each other's way and sighed. "A draft. My God, why would they send a draft to Port Royal?" Elizabeth asked, moving back into the living room and throwing herself tiredly at the couch.

Will walked in after her and sat opposite.

"It couldn't be as horrible as all that. To send a draft all the way out here to Jamaica must mean those revolutionaries aren't as inept as once thought," Will said, leaning back and closing his eyes.

"They probably fight with barbaric tactics, who knows?" Elizabeth sat up and took one of the drinks into her hands. Will took the other one and downed it.

"Frankly, I'm tired of all this draft and war nonsense…" Will started, setting down his glasses again. Elizabeth took a sip and set her drink down after.

"William, we must speak of this!" She looked down at the floor and shook her head. "What shall happen to either of us if you're forced out to America, Will?" Elizabeth found herself unable to look at her husband.

"I don't know," was all he said.


	2. Chapter 2

**Of Pearls and Stars**

II

When Elizabeth awoke the next morning, the bed was cold. Will's place beside her was empty, with only the imprint of his body left upon the mattress and pillow from the night before.

With a yawn, Elizabeth rose out of the bed and dressed slowly and simply. She brushed her fingers through her hair absentmindedly as she checked the washroom for any sign of her husband. When she found it empty, she stepped out and proceeded out of the room and down the stairs into the kitchen.

Her search ended here, for Will was standing at the kitchen counter, staring broodingly out of a window. He gave no acknowledgement and she did the same as she began to set about preparing breakfast.

Setting the table, Elizabeth looked over to her husband, a bit perturbed that he hadn't said anything or moved from his spot since she'd come down.

"Have you eaten yet," she asked gently, searching for any way to break the silence.

"No," was his curt reply.

"Well… I think I'll just make tea and toast this morning, if it's alright with you." Without waiting for an answer, Elizabeth turned and began filling the teapot with water.

At this moment, Will turned to look at her preparing their morning meal, and his gaze was saddened and resentful. "Do you think," he began in a near whisper, choosing his words with great care, "that things would have been different if the baby had survived?"

The question took Elizabeth completely by surprise, and she dropped the heavy kettle onto the floor, spilling the water everywhere. She chose this as an opportunity to ignore Will's question and search her cabinets for a cloth to clean up her mess.

However, Will was unrelenting and would not take his eyes off her. The weight of his gaze soon became too much to bear, so she sighed and stood to face him.

"Yes," Elizabeth replied simply. "Things would have been very different."

Then, she turned away, hoping to relay the message that the conversation was now closed. Will took no notice, and if he had, he paid no heed.

"I think of her everyday, you know," he said quietly.

Elizabeth stopped her actions and stood still with her back to him. When she spoke, her voice shook, sounding unlike anything he had heard from her before. "Why are you doing this?" she turned and William saw that her eyes were brimming with tears.

"I want to talk about it," Will proceeded. "I _need _to talk about her. She hasn't even been mentioned since the miscarriage."

"Well I _don't_ want to talk about it, Will!" Elizabeth cried in protest. "Why do you have to bring it up?"

"Elizabeth," Will began softly, moving toward her. "It's destroying us… it's destroying you. Can't you see?" The man's heart broke at the sight of his wife before him. Her being was now wracked with sobs and she covered her face from him.

"Just leave me alone," Elizabeth cried out furiously.

"No, Elizabeth! Stop pretending to be so strong! You don't have to be!" Will reached his arm out to take hold of her shoulder, but she whirled around to glare at him angrily.

"I do have to be strong, Will," she whispered in a quiet rage. "If I were not strong, I would have died with our daughter." At her own words, Elizabeth's rage and resolve broke, and her shoulders shook once more. "It's not fair. It wasn't her time."

Will approached her slowly and enveloped her into his arms. When she gave no protest, he kissed her forehead gently. "Elizabeth… I'm not saying I believe in such things, you know I'm not religious, but perhaps a higher power deemed it appropriate that we should not have a child just yet."

Elizabeth cried silently with her face buried in his chest. "I loved her so much," she whispered, wrapping her arms around him for support now. "She should have had a chance to live."

"I know," he replied soothingly. He rubbed her back, fighting to keep his own tears at bay.

A knock on the front door caused him to jerk his head up quickly. Pulling away from Elizabeth, he stroked her tear-stained cheek. "I'll be right back," he whispered, and placing a gentle kiss upon her forehead, he left the kitchen to answer the door.

Once he had left, Elizabeth wiped at her eyes and bent to pick up the dropped and forgotten kettle. Her appetite had gone and she no longer wanted to eat breakfast. She wished instead that she were back in bed with no motive or reason to ever leave it.

The woman heard voices from the front hall as she took out fruit instead, opting for something quicker to make this morning. Removing a large knife from its place on the counter, she began to slice an apple.

The voices in the hall stopped, and Elizabeth heard the door close. Her husband entered a moment later carrying a piece of parchment, looking stricken and angry.

"What is it?" Elizabeth asked.

Will looked down to the floor and cleared his throat. "It's… it's a summons. They're making me fight in America."

Elizabeth gasped pushed the knife down unintentionally. She felt a sharp stab of pain in her hand and saw that she had cut her finger.

"They can't," she whispered.

"Elizabeth, your hand," Will said quietly.

"They can't make you fight," she answered. Her eyes once again felt hot with tears and she let out an unsteady breath.

"They can, Elizabeth, and they will. Let me see your hand."

Elizabeth looked down once more and with a small start at how much she was actually bleeding, she held her hand out to him.

Reaching for a cloth, Will wiped her hand free from blood and examined the small wound. "It's not bad," he said simply. "Where are the bandages?"

"In the cabinet to the left of you," she answered.

Will retrieved a bandage and unrolled the fabric. He took her hand and wrapped it gently. He couldn't help but notice how close she was to him. He could feel her breath fan his face.

Elizabeth had started crying again. She still hadn't recovered from their previous conversation, and now she realized that her husband was being sent away from her just when things had started to seem as if they would try to make things better. Her hand throbbed dully which did nothing better for her misery.

"When do you leave?" She asked quietly, staring fixedly at their hands.

"In two weeks," Will replied shortly with a sigh. He had finished wrapping her hand. "There," he said as he secured the bandage. He looked up to her with a grim smile. She did not meet his eyes and instead looked away as a tear dripped down to her nose.

Will moved his hand up to brush it away. He leaned forward then to kiss the tip of her nose.

Elizabeth didn't back away from him, and William remained close to her face. He missed being able to touch and kiss his wife freely. He could not even recall the last time they had been intimate.

Inching forward once again, Will placed a chaste, innocent kiss to her lips. He was surprised when she responded and kissed him back slowly and uncertainly.

He closed the gap between them by stepping closer. He brought his hand up to cup her cheek and held her lips to his, as he never wanted to part. Tracing his tongue along her bottom lip, she opened her mouth willingly and the kiss deepened considerably in desire and passion.

Will was dimly aware of Elizabeth's hands wrapping around his shoulders to entangle in his hair. The string that bound his long hair lay forgotten on the floor. Her lips upon his were familiar territory that sparked a burning hunger within him that had been dormant for a very long time, and if the way Elizabeth was returning his starved kisses were any indication, she felt the same.

Chills swept through Will's body as he wrapped his arms around her waist and moved her back against the kitchen table. When he felt the wood at his knuckles, he lifted his wife to sit on the edge.

Elizabeth felt his hands move to the bottom of her dress and start to lift it up her legs quickly. In turn, her hands pulled his vest from him and tugged his shirt from his trousers, immediately grappling with his belt buckle.

The fury between them was evident as Will gasped at the pain in his lip where Elizabeth's teeth clamped down. He heard a loud thump, but didn't bother to look down, for he knew it was his belt.

A soft, but unyielding hand grasped onto the small of his back and dragged up his skin, leaving a scorching trail as another hand pulled on the front hem of his trousers. Elizabeth opened her legs as he pushed the dress up and tugged him in between them, still kissing him furiously.

He lifted his hands and pulled roughly on the ties of her simple dress, quickly pulling the garment from her. There was a sound that resembled a ripping noise, but neither of them paid heed, for the dress was gone.

Elizabeth pulled her mouth away from Will's and gasped, still tugging on his trousers as she felt his arousal protruding from his pants push against her stomach. Will became angry as she kept tugging at the trousers, as if she meant to rip them from him, but he was preoccupied with the ties in the front of her skimpy under dress.

Red clouded the young woman's eyes as she thought of the body before her, and the hate, pain, anger, sadness poured from her eyes. Tears cascaded down her wanton cheeks as she finally unbuttoned his trousers and tugged them down to his knees quickly.

Standing only in his torn open shirt with his trousers round his calves, Will struggled still with the ties of her under dress. Impatience took over him, and he forgot the task altogether, grabbing onto her hips tightly instead.

The flimsy dress was gathered around her waist as she sat perched on the edge of the kitchen table, her lips and eyes swollen. Her hands grasped at his back, scratching, taking out all of her fury as she cried. She scooted forward on the table and wrapped her legs around his thighs, grabbing his face with her rigid hands and pulling his lips to her breasts.

As he bit down her skin through the thin fabric, he felt her nails dig into his back as she pulled him even closer. The most intimate part of him pressed against her and she gasped, whimpered, crying harder as her hand moving to tug at his hair.

He took her without warning, groaning with tears of his own dripping down his cheeks. The table creaked with each of his thrusts and Elizabeth cried out, throwing her head back as large, red marks formed on her husband's back. The harder he moved against her, the more hatred poured from her. She imagined the child that could have been, would have been as she cursed herself and Will for ever trying.

Another image flew to her mind as she moaned and moved her face to bite his ear, feeling his teeth against her earlobe and the soft, but tensed skin of his thighs grinding against her petite ankles.

Will lay in a heap of men, blood pouring from a wound in his shoulder. He was in a red uniform, a gun lying across him. His eyes were wide and lustful and burning with rage, but he was dead.

He was dead.

She opened her eyes and looked at him, seeing wide, lustful eyes glaring at her with rage.

His hands grasped at her waist as he pulled her against him to meet each of his movements until finally, still staring into his hurt, pained, angry gaze with eyes to match his own, she threw her head back in her climax, hearing him follow as she felt warmth spread throughout her center.

She audibly gasped for breath, her chest heaving as he stood with her in his arms, his body quivering in his release. Her tears flooded down her face at what they had just done and her lips trembled. But all she could do was bring her hands from his back to her face as she bitterly cried, her body shaking as he took his hands from her and collapsed into the chair behind him, tears littering his cheeks as well as he turned his head from her and pulled his trousers back up and buttoned them again.

Will calmed down his pumping blood enough to regard her quietly. She had never looked as vulnerable as she did now. She made no effort to move and only stared blankly at the floor when her tears had ceased.

With a tired sigh, Will stood and took her into his arms. She collapsed into him willingly, like a small child. He cradled her in his arms and carried her silently out of the kitchen and up the stairs to their bedroom. No words were exchanged, as Will did not know what to say and Elizabeth wasn't eager to speak either.

He entered the room and pushed the door closed behind them with his boot. It was still morning and the sun streamed steadily in through the windows. Setting her down onto her feet, Will quickly found a robe and draped it around her form.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, looking away from her in shame.

At this, Elizabeth regarded him quietly. "So am I."

There were no more words exchanged. There simply weren't any words left.

.ooo.

When it came to improvement, neither knew where to start. For the first few days after the morning encounter in the kitchen, only polite words and soft glances were exchanged. The underlying awkwardness was obvious. The prospect of Will's departure in not but over a week brought a deep sense of urgency, and yet neither yielded.

Will was working longer hours now, trying desperately to fulfill new and old orders before he left. Elizabeth saw no point in continuing to take on new projects, and told him so. He simply laughed and kissed her forehead.

"I'm doing it for you," he had said. "For if I don't, what money will you have to spend?"

The hours Will was at work left Elizabeth alone at home most of the time. Left without much to entertain herself with, she had taken up cleaning and packing things for William she knew he wouldn't really need anyway. When nearly everything he owned was folded carefully and placed in the bag he would be taking, she had tried to busy herself with other things.

Any other attempts proved to be in vain, and often, Elizabeth found herself sitting for long moments, with nothing left to do but think, reflect, and wait as the days inched by.

It was on such a day that she found herself sitting on the front porch of their house, slouched lazily in a cushioned wicker chair overlooking their yard. She looked along the fine, polished woodwork of the porch and smiled bitterly.

Will had built this himself by hand, she knew. It had taken him weeks, and his hands were usually left raw and red from the shaping and cutting of the wood. It wasn't necessary, she also knew. They didn't need a porch. He built it because she had wanted it.

Elizabeth realized that she had not mentioned the porch again since that day. She had not acknowledged it or noticed it. She hadn't even thanked him for it.

And suddenly, with sickening clarity, Elizabeth realized everything her husband had ever done for her, and she remembered every time she had forgotten to thank him.

When was the last time that she had told him that she loved him? Elizabeth could not remember. Surely she had told him in the months following the miscarriage?

The woman stood from her chair stiffly, still staring down at the wooden floor. Will had tried so hard to make sure she was safe and happy, and she did nothing except wallow in her own self pity and offer him nothing more than coldness and indifference.

Before she knew what she was doing, Elizabeth was walking rapidly down the path that led to town. She broke into a run, not caring that her hair was loose and trailing behind her, or that she was dressed in the simplest of clothes that would be frowned upon in the marketplace.

Her thin legs carried her down the gravelly road until she reached the outskirts of the small town. She didn't stop, and sprinted through the wide streets filled with stands selling fruits and vegetables. The girl earned quite a few stares and comments of disdain, but she did not care. Her mind was set unto only one task, and soon she found herself standing in front of the blacksmith's shop.

Her face flushed and her chest heaving rapidly, Elizabeth pushed the heavy oak door open and stepped inside the stifling shop. She called out her husband's name frantically, but then stopped, realizing she wasn't the only one inside the shop with her husband.

Will, accompanied by two men, looked up from a drawing laid out on a table, wondering who had caused the interruption. The two unfamiliar faces looked Elizabeth up and down with a slightly puzzled frown, and Will looked startled.

"Elizabeth?" He asked uncertainly as an awkward silence ensued.

Pushing back her thoughts of embarrassment and regret, Elizabeth swallowed and then spoke. "Will, I need to speak with you. Alone, please."

After a moment's pause, Will stood straight and cleared his throat. "Gentlemen, I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut this meeting short. You both have wives, so I'm sure you understand."

Both men gave a hearty chuckle as they took turns shaking the young blacksmith's hand. With a slight nod and another curious glance to Elizabeth, they left the building swiftly.

Elizabeth approached Will quickly as he wiped his hands clean on a rag. "Elizabeth, is anything wrong?"

She did not answer, and instead brought her hands up to cup his cheeks and bring his lips down to hers in a chaste kiss. "Will, thank you," she said, and kissed him again. As she pulled away, she noticed Will's puzzled, yet pleasantly surprised expression.

"For… for what?" 

Wrapping her arms around his torso, Elizabeth felt tears spring to her eyes as she felt Will's larger ones wrap around her almost instinctively. She buried her face into his neck and sniffled quietly, causing Will to place his hand under her chin and raise her face to his.

"For what, Elizabeth?"

Everything, she wanted to say. For supplying her with such a wonderful home and a wonderful life; for being so patient and understanding for the past few months; for doing anything she asked without question; for loving her unconditionally.

"The porch," she said quietly. "The porch is so beautiful. It's exactly what I wanted. Thank you."

Will's puzzled expression grew deeper. "That's all?" He asked in his gentle baritone.

Elizabeth nodded her head slowly and a smile grew on his face. He bent down to kiss the tip of her nose.

"Well then, in that case, you're very welcome, my love."

She laughed then, and he smiled. "It's been awhile since I've seen you laugh."

"I'm so sorry," Elizabeth whispered then, bowing her head. He kissed her hairline and rubbed her back soothingly.

"Let's go home," he stated gently, removing his arms from around her. She nodded and wiped her cheeks dry from the residue of tears.

Reaching for his cloak, Will wrapped it securely about Elizabeth's thin frame and placed a protective arm around her waist. They proceeded out into the town, which was now silent and deserted as the night descended.

The walk home was soothing, and Elizabeth enjoyed the feeling of their bodies gently brushing against each other due to their close proximity. A warm bubble that she thought was long forgotten had resurfaced in her heart, basking her in deep content.

They entered their home quietly and didn't bother to turn any lights on, opting to retire to bed immediately instead. Their room was softly lit with silvery moonlight as the source peeked in through the window above their bed. The face she had always presumed to be sad now seemed to smile at her from up in the sky, and she smiled softly as she began to undress.

Rough hands soon met bare shoulders as the heavy cloak dropped to the floor heavily. He pushed her heavy hair out of the way and Will's fingertips were soon followed by the soft caress of his lips hovering over the back of her neck.

The ties of her dress became loose and soon that was discarded as well, leaving her soft body bare in the moonlight. Elizabeth turned then, and faced her husband as he stared down at her with smoldering eyes.

His hands rounded her waist gently as she raised her own hands to the buttons of his shirt. She unhooked them slowly, making sure to run her fingers gently over each inch of exposed skin. His shirt joined the growing pile of clothes at their feet, and once he too was completely bare, they pressed their bodies together. They reveled in each other's warmth as their hands sought to caress and stroke every bit of soft skin within reach. Their lips were only satisfied when met with each other or a plane of skin to rest upon.

Both husband and wife broke the silence occasionally with a sharp intake of breath or a soft whimper. Their attentions continued until Elizabeth's heart pounded in her ears and she trembled where she stood. Will's lips latched onto her pulse point, and he suckled at the sensitive skin, causing her to whimper his name.

As if this were his cue, Will bent slightly and scooped up his wife in his arms, only to place her gently atop the bed. She sighed contentedly as her husband continued where he had left off, kissing her neck and gradually working his way down.

Will bit down on her collarbone and Elizabeth gasped in reaction, arching her body into his. A low chuckle rumbled through his chest, and he swiftly settled his mouth upon her breast. Her gasp morphed into a soft groan, and her hands twisted themselves into the sheets by her side. Will lavished attention on both peaks before lowering his mouth to the center of her belly.

He felt a pang in his heart as he remembered performing the same action when her belly was rounded with child, and he had imagined the baby could feel him through its mother's skin. Will glanced up to Elizabeth's face and saw that her eyes had slipped shut and her mouth was parted slightly. He didn't know if she knew exactly how beautiful she was.

Resting his weight upon his arms, Will brought himself back up to her and claimed her lips softly, letting his tongue explore the cavern of her mouth gently. His fingers skimmed her ribcage and she giggled into his mouth, bringing a smile to his own face. After long moments, Will pulled away, stroking the corner of her mouth with his thumb.

Elizabeth offered him a loving smile as she raised her arms around his shoulders and separated her legs to fit Will's body between them. She settled her fingers into his hair as his lips latched onto her neck. He was poised at her entrance, waiting for her signal, and so she turned her head to bite at his earlobe gently, nudging her hips against his simultaneously.

Will groaned softly and entered her with a slow, gentle stroke. He found her body receptive and warm, and he enjoyed the feeling of being this intimately connected, both emotionally and physically this time, with his wife.

Elizabeth raised her knees at his side and her soft voice spurred him to begin to move within her. Her murmured words soon gave way to low groans and soft whimpers and gasps, which he found far more exhilarating. He matched hers with moans and growls of his own, his hips repeatedly thrusting slowly within her.

Giving a quick squeeze of her legs, Elizabeth gave a frustrated moan. "Please," she gasped, and Will was more than willing to give her what she asked for.

His pace sped up and Will reached the point where he could not longer control the movement of his own hips due to his long pent up desire and want for his wife. His thrusts became stronger and more virile, while her cries heightened in volume and passion.

William's hand grappled her thigh, holding it firmly for leverage. He grunted and increased his pace further still, now thrusting at wild abandon, yet being gentle enough for his wife. He was quickly losing his control, but his stamina held fast through his own will power to please Elizabeth before himself. He was aware that this was their first coupling on such an emotional level in months, and to leave her unsatisfied would make him ashamed.

The young man rocked his hips harder against his lover, and she groaned loudly in reply. He continued this motion, enjoying the reaction he seemed to be able to elicit. After mere moments, her breathless voice resounded in his ears.

"Will… I can't…" she gasped, moving her hands down to dig into the skin of his back. 

"You don't have to," William grunted back. "Let go."

Her body arched into his almost convulsively and she called out his name as he felt her center release around his manhood. That was all that was needed to send him over the edge as well, and he released a guttural cry.

His body collapsed against hers limply, but he did not care enough to remove himself to the side. He was too content to lie against her, his upper body enveloped within her arms, and the rest connected in the most intimate fashion.

The couple breathed deeply, clutching each other's body tight. Will rested his head against her breast, still quite out of breath. He closed his eyes as her hands moved up to stroke his hair.

After he had regained his breath, Will removed himself from her body and moved to lie at her side. By default, Elizabeth curled up against him, her head resting comfortably in the crook of his neck. With a small smile, Will turned tilted his head and kissed her forehead gently before reaching down to pull the blankets over their bodies.

Elizabeth nuzzled her face gently into his skin, kissing his neck at random. Her fingertips trailed a lazy path down from his torso, to his abdomen, and then back up repetitively.

They had both missed this: the ability to make love and then bask in the afterglow wrapped around each other. They felt like newlyweds again, a thought that brought a faint smile to both of their lips.

The young couple was soon falling fast asleep, and Elizabeth sighed and shifted herself comfortably. Her soft, "I love you," was not lost on Will, however, and he wrapped his arms securely around her. He bent his head and they shared a sweet, tender kiss.

"I love you too," he whispered in return, before dropping his head back to the pillow and closing his eyes.

000

**A/N:** So, I probably couldn't even begin apologizing for the long wait, but I think I've made up for it in this chapter. I figured I'd be nice to our favorite couple by letting them reconcile a bit before they're viciously ripped away from each other. I have big plans for this story, so keep watch! Thank you for reading.

By the way, I think everyone should go and give a huge hug to Williz, for she helped me write this. Yea, Karen! You're the best! Love you daaahhhlin 3!


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